The Cry of a Comrade...

Those who truly feel the pain of the recent UON drama is us who have the name stuck with us forever. Even if I went to another university and did the exact course I studied in UON nothing will ever change about the fact that I spent solid four years of my life at UON.

I have been on record many times saying that demos at UON are pointless and will never achieve anything not in the way they are done! Never mind that SONU and food cannot be ignored (really!).

Dear comrades being in university should set you apart from each and every other villager out there who has never had the privilege of setting foot there. Being a university student means you were among the best in more ways than one. It is expected that you have a certain thinking capacity that millions out there do not have. But guess what? We have just given life to the old joke of "selling a cow to educate another cow". No sober university student burns buildings because they are throwing a cheap tantrum, didn’t your mother spank you enough when you threw tantrums at two!! Then you need to meet my mother! So how many solutions did you get when you burnt down the SONU office? After burning down the Mess, how many lecturers or the UON administrators went hungry?

About the vandalism at what was to be an event by the US Embassy, really comrades did we have to stoop that low, hadn’t we gone low enough already?

The ramifications of our thoughtless actions will be dire my friends and trust me Sam Gichuru only showed us a tip of the iceberg. Mo Sounds will never employ a UON graduate not because we are all violent but because once beaten twice shy. You can insult Sam Gichuru all you want but if you know what he does you should be peacefully matching to his office with a bouquet of roses and perhaps attempt to appease him. Trust me when more players in the private sector pick up the same spirit and attitude concerning this matter and they speak in one voice we will all wish we studied at University of Matopeni.

You do not stone cars that belong to a potential future employer.

My dear comrades we are surely better than that! We have allowed a hand full students decide the fate of more than 500,000 others. We have entrusted our legacy to a few people who stumbled and found themselves in UON. Let the law take its course and let’s see real action, let people be jailed and do not put them in a cell and allow them to take a selfie with a bottle of whisky. It’s okay IG Boinet I took note of that and now I know there exists classes of criminals. Last I checked electronic gadgets let alone alcohol were not allowed in cells, but again not all animals are equal, RIGHT?

Dear Dr. Matiang’i, I liked you, your energy and enthusiasm. Perhaps I still do. I had this illusion and a really good dream that sanity would eventually return to our institutions of higher learning. Sir we need you to stop acting like UON does not exist, let people answer and take responsibility for slowly but surely degrading the reputation of that great university. If for nothing else, do it for your grandchildren. They need to have a better narrative about their mothers and fathers so that they not only read about their ability to hurl projectiles and brave the torture of tear gears. It’s an institution of HIGHER learning, please let it remain so. Don’t kill the little trust I still have in you. It’s a cry from an innocent young girl who shaped her life in UON. She also knows that there are many incredibly great minds back there and still, a handful that only stumbled and fell there. They neither value intellect nor the reputation of an institution whose name they will carry throughout their lives. 

ITS YOUR LIFE

I am far from perfect but I am work in progress. I am perhaps too young to talk about my generation and its weaknesses but who is better placed to talk about this than a sister who wants and desires to see a better tomorrow for my generation? 
I have watched people close to me and others i do not know, make choices not too good for their own lives. Don't get it twisted, what they choose to do with their lives is not my problem, trust me I have enough going on in my own life to care about what people decide for themselves. What bothers me however is the excuses we form to justify our misdoings. So you came from a dysfunctional family and this has been the excuse you keep peddling for being an abusive partner. Make me understand how this is the same brain that makes you realise that the cause of your abusive nature is your family experience yet that same brain cannot tell you to get help and change that nasty narrative.
Why does your absent parent have to be the reason you cannot do well in school and decide to drop out? Is it because we all dont know how bad a dad your father was or how much your mum did not care about you? It is your life and you are punishing yourself and not them by using their mistakes to justify your bad choices. The best punishment to those that do not wish you well is not proving them right by making a wreck out of your life, its actually making it better and leaving them surprised.
When you turn 18 you have a responsibility to make decisions that can either make you or ruin you. No one can make decisions for you no matter how much they try. It gets to a point where its about me and what I decide to do with my life. My father can be the military general for all I care but it is my choices that make me stand out not his status in society and his supposed authority to kill in case I go astray.
‪#‎ITSYOURLIFE‬

ETHNICITY WILL SURELY BE THE DEATH OF US!

The time has come and we are now gathering in our tribal cocoons, once more! We are crawling back to the places someone made us believe is home and even after whole 16 or more years in school you still believe the greatest possession you have is an ethnic identity.  Well done Kenyans let’s see how long we survive by doing things the same way and proving beyond doubt our insanity, guess what we shall surely eat the fruits of our great labour, we shall be paid handsomely so it’s not in vain after all. Whether good or bad the pay day will come. We have sank even lower and its now inter tribal wars! Its clanism. We thought it would be a better idea to bring our little wars closer home so why not start realising that even that which I thought was my ethnic group also has other groups and then why not begin superiority wars and try proving who more “Meru” than the other is.

As I have said time and again its either we unite or we will perish together as fools.

If what I am seeing is anything to go by then 2007/8 was child play. We are prepared for war we have put our tools together and we are waiting to be called and we will diligently report to duty to protect our own. Our own who forget about us the moment they get the coveted political offices. They disappear on us and after 4yrs they crawl back to us and since we are very faithful we embrace them and we protect them as if our next breathe depends on them. It’s called an abusive relationship but it’s too sweet to leave so we are hanging in there for reasons we also do not know. We are just faithful, we submit and we don’t question.

We forget they presented us with promises and not only that but a full manifesto and we were taken on a full dream  of how we would live in heaven if we gave them the only power we have, our vote. But we are too naive and we have forgotten all that and now we want to give them another chance to make this dream turned nightmare longer.

We love our politicians more than we love life and that we keep proving without fail. And for sure we will be true to that Kenyan spirit unless we transform

By Sarah Makena

A Letter to my brothers

In the past few months I have found myself in conversations about violence and cruelty against women. I thought I had heard all the mediocre reasons as to why a man could possibly abuse a woman but here is the newest excuse in town; "We African men...blah blah blah" and that’s a statement I have heard a little too many times that i want to believe that it was only part of a terrible nightmare which I have since woken up from, unfortunately the reality is that there is a breed of men who have found a new excuse for abusing women. So the reason is that you have a very small ego; to feed it and stroke it you must fight with a woman, and the excuse is that you are an African man? Please give me a break! Perhaps the next time you want to give that flimsy lame excuse try to do it while in hides and skin, may be then I can begin to understand. At the very least I will then have an imagery of the African man you purport to be.

I may have failed my history class but at least I can remember what my mother told me about her father, a true African man. I can remember my own father, the epitome of a true African man. African men were protectors, providers and proclaimers. And that power was lost the day African men of today sat in a house whose rent he had no idea how it was raised and ate food he had no idea how to look for. That power was lost when many men started rolling down the windows of their mothers’ Range Rovers to snare at and intimidate women who were in their own Toyota Vitz.

I have nothing against men I have too many in my circles, neither am I starting a battle I cannot finish. All I am doing is asking us to wake up beyond "MAWE" and realise that the bar was set very high for the men in our society today by those who came before them and guess what? To reach that high bar you need to stop waiting to be a millionaire by playing Sportpesa, boy please! What I am saying is that the real African men killed lions as a show of might, went out literally in search of danger to demonstrate their manliness but that was then and it worked at that time! Today my brothers you must report to duty and be the men we want in society; Men that are not intimidated by the success of their female counterparts but men that are challenged by this and turn it into positive energy to propel them into higher notches of success.

This, my brothers will not be achieved through physical or emotional abuse. It is not achieved by stepping all over the women you come across. The only thing that abuse does is it creates competitors and not partners. It makes women bitter and they choose to focus on competing with you. But when you show up for duty and work twice as hard as she does she respects you and creates a heaven for you to operate.

Men call out the boys in men’s skin who are letting all the men down, call out the men in these boys. Ask them to wake up from the dream that one day while sitting lazily doing nothing they will win a betting jack pot! This annoying betting obsession is a story for another day!

By Sarah Makena

If you wake up at ten you are lazy not sleeping beauty.

A letter to my sisters

Snow white is no longer white, Cinderella is now in high heels and sleeping beauty woke up. 

I don’t make sense right now but let’s take a walk together and chat. There is a fairy tale fantasy that girls in their 20s today are living in.  The idea that there is someone somewhere who wakes up very early every day while they are still asleep and at the end of the month Mr. X owes them a salary for being pretty, for being sexy, for looking good.  While your mother is somewhere in a tiny village at the foot of mount Kenya, the shores of Lake Victoria or the plains of the Rift Valley saying a prayer each day for you after she invested in a good education for you, you are busy sending messages to married men who for God knows what reason should pay your rent, fund your weekend getaways with your girls, foot your shopping bills and fuel that car which is not registered in your name.

My dear sister, as you indulge in deep slumber there is a woman Supreme Court judge who earned that position out of merit, so trust me sleeping beauty woke up. Stop whining and wondering why you are 27 and there is no sign you will ever get married any time soon. Those men you hang out with every Friday are only with you because they don’t have to try so hard to get you to tag along. The women they worked hard to impress are treated to exquisite dinners at Sankara because darling you reflect what you attract. You are with him at that dingy joint on Moi Avenue because to him that’s what you deserve. Are you still wondering why he treats his wife better? Are you wondering why you are an underground secret that cannot see light of day? Are you wondering why his escapades with you must be kept under the wraps and must take place at some secluded house he takes every cheap woman he picks from the streets?

Why should we talk about equality when some of us sit in houses the whole day and keep up with the Kardashians? I am sure those American girls would be very grateful to know that you spend half your day’s life watching them live theirs. They earn a living from your laziness darling. Again those girls work extremely hard. Perhaps you could try keeping up with them by at least setting up a socks line of your own.  Those that fought for gender equality wanted to raise a woman who could compete at the same level with the men. They wanted girls to go to school so that they could unlock their full potential. So that women could rise to positions such as senators, governors and even President without being told ‘’you got it because you are a woman’’ or ‘’you must have slept your way to the top.’’ They hoped to raise a woman who did not need a man to achieve small things like having her hair made. They envisaged a society where a woman would be respected for what she brings to the table and not merely because of what lies between her legs. They hoped for a woman who could bargain with her neck upwards.

So my dear sisters when you sit and wait, wait for a man to finance your lifestyle simply because you can offer an already battered part of your female anatomy, you are an embarrassment to the spirit and legacy of women like the late Prof. Wangari Mathai and the rest who struggled to elevate the African woman and indeed the entire human female species.  If it’s 2 am and you happen to lose your shoe sweetheart you are not Cinderella, you are drunk! If it’s Monday morning and you are still in bed at 10am, you are lazy not sleeping beauty! As you approach 30 continue smoking sheesha, weed and everything else that your lungs can take then keep wishing for prince charming to come and kiss you out of imminent destruction and death.

Let’s snap out of the dream my dear sisters and prove to our mothers that their efforts to create a better tomorrow for us was not in vain. The only way for women to prove to the world that there is more to them than trophies to be won for simple bodily gratifications is to change from within ourselves. We must prove that we are worth all the opportunities that are being put out here for girls and women. Let us rewrite a new fairy tale and show the men that we can be partners and not just partakers. Until you can prove that you are more than just a partaker in a man’s success the man has no reason to perceive you differently from the way he does today.

Look around you and pass my letter to other sisters too.

With love,

A caring sister.

Lessons from the Drama

Drama after drama we have been treated to, here in Kenya, yet it’s barely 2 months in to 2015. From these happenings, I can accurately predict that Kenyans will be a tired lot by mid this year; what saddens me is that there seems to be no hint of better things to come, at least if the incidents of these two months are anything to go by.

…from the sudden demise of baba’s son whose mystery is yet to be unraveled, to the ‘Mr. Private Developer Singh’ whose land grabbing behavior led to innocent school children being sprayed with loads of teargas, to a dishonorable member of parliament who decided to treat us to a series of Reality TV drama as he spit unmentionable insults to some men in uniform, and to the loss of politicians in a single week…some through road accidents while others were executed by some very well-trained snipers (at least this is what I think because, otherwise, how do you expect me to explain that some four men were each shot dead with a single bullet?) Believe me when I say this is a real difficult year for us not unless the Angels come down to the earth … 

Having witnessed all these incidences, I have picked a few lessons which I would like to share with you…

First, it’s only you and I fight who and call each other names simply because we speak different languages. Before Fidel passed on, may his soul R.I.P, the country’s boss had a fully packed diary. His diary was probably packed with schedules of events; therefore, visiting baba was most likely least in his agenda. When the son of Jakom passed on, you were probably not amused that the country’s chief had shelved his commitments for two days and gone to be with his perceived ‘enemy’… at least according to you and me. We have eyes but we do not see, we have ears but we do not hear! The loud message passed through this incident was that there really are no enemies in politics… may be ‘frenemies’. 

Let not any one fool you; they wine and dine together once they are away from the public eye and outside the political arena, their children school together and inter-marry because they do not limit themselves to their tribes. Actually, it is only you and me who belong to certain tribes and carry around the tags of our tribes with us in our hearts, heads, and on our foreheads; otherwise, the political chiefs of our country only associate themselves with the various tribes as a means to influence the vote, a selfish act which makes them sole beneficiaries. I tell you this for sure, if we do not dismantle our tribal cocoons and peacefully co-exist, we shall perish as fools…

They grabbed the school playground and innocent children faced the wrath of hungry policemen, who have become so accustomed to throwing canisters of teargas to city hawkers, that they did not even stop for a second to think that their victim, this time around, was not the hawkers but primary school children. My brothers on social media were fast as lightening to condemn this act and pretend to be holier than though. Several of my friends changed their social media names to “Private developer Singh” while others posted all types of funny pictures to ridicule the land grabbers. 

Then I thought to myself… how sad that we have become only a reactive nation rather than a proactive one to address these burning issues. As long as we are not proactive and fear confronting such issues, criticism hush tags will continue being the order of the day and this will not stop the vicious cycle of corruption incidents. I am glad that although you grabbed the land, we fought to have it back, and now they are about to conclude fencing it. 

I salute the men in uniform at the weigh-bridge for standing firm on their principles, although, sadly, they became part of a Reality TV drama that we were treated to by one of our honorable members. My bad, this was quite a show… I vividly recall the last time we were treated to such drama was during an infamous incident at village market; the big fish in this case was relieved of her duties and the naïve guard was rewarded by the courts for having gone through such a humiliation. 

The beauty of Chapter 6 of our Constitution is reminiscent during such nasty incidents of big fish vs. small fish. The maturity with our courts is evident as they seem to clearly understand that no one is above the law, really, and that justice must be allowed to follow her course. If only we could have a few more officers and guards like these… a few more proactive journalists would also be required to do the exposes without fear or favor. 

For the love of my country, I can’t fail to notice that there’s a lot of bloodshed yet no one is being made to account for it. How would you explain the many cases of cattle rustling, which often leave scores dead, yet they seem to get worse as days go by? Every day, I cringe at the thought that the beauty of my country may be fading…Alhamdulillah! The coastal region is gradually regaining its glory…. 

Amkeni Ndugu  Zangu, Natujenge Taifa Letu…

An Article by Sarah Makena,

Co-founder Ukabila Zi Society

Blessed Big Hearts: Living the Purpose

Saturday, February…the date is 7^th, year 2015. I had traveled outside Nairobi to go check on the progress of my dignity project; little did I know that it would become an inspirational weekend on my part. Having many friends is good especially having friends whom you share similar perspectives about life. On this Saturday, I was supposed to travel back to Nairobi, from this far away village where I am doing my dignity project; my dream has always been to empower young people, from the most odd of places; odd not because the places do not exist in the map of the world, but because the regions are marked with poverty, illiteracy, among other threats to development. I hold this deep passion in me to ensure that the young people from such remote areas, humble backgrounds, gain quality education. 

Some will argue that this burning passion in me, to ensure accessibility of quality education, is motivated by the circumstances I have been through; yes, they may be right…but only partly; I strongly believe that every human being is born with intrinsic dignity; The ideal he/ she deserves respect regardless of where they are born, raised, their social standing in the society not to mention their religious belief. I strongly believe that by promoting access to quality education, I will be promoting human dignity among these people, whom life seems to have mastered the art of playing poker on them. What else can we do for them if not empower them through education?

It was a group of friends, who had come together in unity of purpose, to improve the condition of children orphanages in two counties of Kenya, by offering sustainable solutions to the challenge of food, school fees, clothes, shoes…name them. I must say there exists a genius in this part of the world; genius in creating sustainable solutions to social problems facing children in orphanages. The person who designed the initiative and decided that donating various plant seedlings ranging from fruit seedlings to wood-tree seedlings, and calculated that it would only take a mere 5 years for these orphanages to start enjoying the fruits of their labor; paying school fees, comfortably buying food and clothing for themselves, besides, gaining experience enough to make them sustainable citizens who can initiate projects on themselves, was a genius. 

It was long journey to Josphine Wambui orphanage; long because it was actually long, and long because there was a lot of dust. Every part of Kenya is very dry right now and this probably explains why we reached at Josphine Wambui covered in layers of dust; I was thanking heavens for convincing me to wear navy blue and black from head to toe. My experience at Josphine Wambui did not reach a climax until I listened to her talk. She talked after her husband. She started by complaining that her husband had refused to speak on her behalf, that he had refused to introduce her to the visitors, yet they were in this together. Then she said that people actually thought she was crazy. Her siblings, who were seated in our midst, had travelled from the capital city to come and confirm if really this couple was not crazy... I wondered why? I had to speak to her… telling you the next 10 minutes were marked by impatience and curiosity would be an understatement.

A couple of years ago, Dorothy was seated at the fireplace in her bungalow in Nairobi after having a sumptuous meal for dinner. It was a cold evening. During such cold evenings, Dorothy, her husband and 4 year old son would join her at the fireplace where they would ‘pass’ the evening hours as they beat the chilling cold. However, on this particular evening, Dorothy received a revelation; for the first time she realized that they had only one child, yet she had always wanted to have other children especially through adoption but she had not yet started the procedure. The reality that Dorothy and her husband had only one child struck her so much that she wondered what really it is that they were looking for in this world, in terms of wealth, since they already had enough wealth to be inherited by their only son Emmanuel.

Dorothy and her husband had worked for 14 years each and had made a sizable amount of investments in real estate, stocks, and savings; enough to guarantee them a comfortable lifetime and be inherited by their son. Dorothy shared this insight with her husband, who completely agreed with her reasoning. Dorothy recounted her story about how she was bed-ridden for 2 months yet neither her wealth nor any amount of money could make her rise up from the bed; yes, she stayed sick and stuck in bed for that long…

On this chilly night, Dorothy and her husband agreed that they had, after all, been chasing vanity of vanity. It had been fourteen years of waking up early, beating traffic jams, and toiling to make money…now they had it, they even had their own rental apartments as is the dream of many employees, but all this was vanity. Imagine working your entire life and making a lot of money, only to leave it as inheritance to your one child? The more I listened to Dorothy’s perspective about wealth as vanity, the more it dawned on me that we should find a greater motivation other than wealth; a greater motivation that is our purpose, which we can say, one day, made us live. A purpose greater than money that we would be ready to die for, to live a legacy that we helped mankind, that we helped affirm dignity in an individual who had been tormented by the ghosts of life and deprived off dignity. Mother Theresa of Calcutta knew this too well…

Dorothy and her husband tendered their letters of resignation in January, 2015. They were determined to live a purposeful life by being parents to orphans; they packed a few of their belongings and in the company of their son Emmanuel left for Josphine Wambui’s Orphanage; somewhere in the dusty rural Kenya, to offer their parental love and guidance to the 25 children at the home. Their son Emmanuel would become the 26^th. Believe me; they left everything else they had worked hard to buy in Nairobi city. To add salt to the injury, they sold their sleek car in exchange for an old one that could fit the humble lifestyle of a rural area in Kenya.

As I write this article, Dorothy, her husband, and son Emmanuel are living at Josephine Wambui’s Orphanage. Their purpose is simple; to transform the lives of the orphaned children through their parental love and guidance and to manage the children’s home. This couple is committed; one month down the line, the children are already enjoying eating tomatoes, vegetables, corn, and milk produced in the orphanage’s farm courtesy of Dorothy’s husband. Dorothy has also been hard at work helping the children in their studies, building self-esteem in them, and teaching them the basics of hygiene. Wow…what can I say? My friends and I look forward to spending a whole week at the children’s home; playing with the children, sharing our perspectives about life and dignity, besides catching up with Dorothy…

An Article by Gladys Muthara,

 Champion for Quality Education,

Volunteer Blog Editor, Ukabila Zi Society,